


Don't Hate The Game

by WhiskeyDix (Zibomotua)



Series: OMGCP! Drabbles [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Drunken Makeouts, Epikegster, Holster's got game, M/M, mentions of gay porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zibomotua/pseuds/WhiskeyDix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ransom has his secret weapon for hitting on women at Haus parties, and so does Holster. What happens when they end up turning those weapons on each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Hate The Game

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Parse II](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/109910185852)
> 
> An alternate version where Ransom and Holster don't end up admitting to March and April that they've read Pimms fanfiction and inviting them to the attic.

“Yo Holtz!” Hoster turns to catch Ransom, holding his drink over his head, weaving through the chaos of people partying in their Haus. His matching olive branch was falling down on one side, sliding over his ear to poke him in the cheek.

“Rans my boy!” Holster throws his arm around his best friend, using the angle to pick his crown up and tuck the end back behind Ransom’s ear.

Ransom lets his shoulder crash into Holster, pressing their sides up together. “Yo, so you know that girl I’ve been eyeing?”

“The volleyball chick or the starving artist?”

“Volleyball chick” 

“Oh, March, yea!” It’s not weird that Holster remembers her name, right?

“Yea!” Ransom lights up. Holster thinks his acute memory is totally worth it to get a flash of Ransom’s beautiful pearly whites. “Well I was loitering behind her and um, April, and I overheard her say she loves to watch gay porn! Haha how weird is that? How do I sneak that into an opening convo?”

Ransom often loiters behind girls he finds attractive at parties. He calls it his secret weapon. First he overhears a choice piece of conversation, then he casually slips something related into the discussion later. It honestly works every time. Holster wishes he could do it too.

“How about, Hi I’m Justin and I love gay porn! How about you?” Holster leans in to yell into Ransom’s ear.

“Oh my god, Holtzy. This is why you have no game!” Ransom chirps him, knocking their cups together in a silent ‘drink for it, bro’.

Holster downs the rest of his drink, idea forming in his alcohol laced brain. He’ll show Ransom he’s got game once and for all.

“The tall blonde over by the speakers right?” he says, noting they are in her direct line of sight.

“Yea!”

“I may know a way to spark her interest, you in?” Holster turns his body in to face Ransom, waggling his eyebrows.

Ransom is used to Holster’s ridiculous shenanigans that never offer him any warning or explanation. He nods. “I’m ready for whatever, brotato!”

“Good” Holster says much quieter than their usual party yelling. 

Crushing his red solo cup in hand and letting it fall to the floor, Holster uses his now free hands to slide up Ransom's neck and softly pull his jaw upward. 

The kiss itself was in no way soft, it’s strong and crushing and Ransom can’t help but respond just as fierce.

Ransom thinks he understands Holster’s drunken thought process. Instead of talking to March about gay porn, show her some and she’ll fall hard for him. Sure! That works!

Only the kiss kept progressing deeper and deeper. They were both aware that they were moving farther and farther over the line of intent of their actions, but neither cared. Both carried away in the feeling of clashing mouths with someone of equal size and strength. Someone who already knew their intimate likes and dislikes.

Holster felt Ransom’s hands on his lower back, thumbs dipping into his toga, and a tongue dominantly searching for his. He obliges, using his own tongue in an expertly practiced maneuver designed to destroy the women he takes home. Ransom may have his secret weapon, but Holster has his too.

Holster hopes that noise he hears from Ransom is code for ‘sorry I chirp you by saying you have no game, because you’ve got game, you’ve got hella game and now I'm gay for you’.

They break apart finally when some drunk partygoer knocks into Ransom. 

Holster steadies his D-man partner in his arms. Ransom’s dark eyes are close to his when he looks up at Holster with an expression that can only be described as completely demolished.

“Bro.” Ransom says, eyes blown so wide Holster can’t even tell what’s pupil and what’s iris anymore. Holster tries to look down to distract himself but catches on Ransom’s kiss-plumped lips instead.

Ransom leans in that last few inches to touch his lips to Holster’s overly sensitive ear. “Screw March. Wanna go upstairs and make our own gay porn?” 

“Hell yea, bro.” It’s Holster’s turn now to sound completely destroyed.

Ransom laughs and slaps his ass on their way up, not a glance spared for March.

**Author's Note:**

> X-posted on [ my tumbles](whiskeydix.tumblr.com)


End file.
